The Hunt for Life (Fem Percy Guardian of the Hunt)

Chapter Two

The words washed over me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. "No," I said. "No." I tried to pull away from him. There were so many doors, I was sure I could hide in one if I could just get away. It would give me a minute to figure out what to do, how to get out of this. Dad's hand pressed down harder. His fingers dug around my bones.

"This isn't a choice you get to make." We turned a corner. Torches replaced windows. "Unless you'd rather I tell your mother." My heart stilled. I stared at Dad, mouth agape. No words would fall from my lips; none would pass through my throat. "That's what I thought."

"Even- Even if you tell her, that doesn't mean- Hey!" I kicked my legs and struggled. It did no good. In an instant Dad had hoisted me up by the back of my shirt.

"Perseus, like I said, this isn't your choice to make. Make things easier on the both of us, and don't fight." Sea green eyes, burning and glowing, drilled holes into me. All I could do was swallow and let dread settle in my gut. Dad sighed and lowered me so my feet were firmly on the floor. Cloth brushed cloth, and tan moved towards me. I flinched back. A blink later and my eyes refocused. Dad's hand was still outreached; it fell back to his side. "I wouldn't hit you. Not for something like this. Never for something like this."

But why would he, the question bounced around my head. If I made him mad would he? Would that be enough to kill- No. I had a direct hit from a giant into a pillar, and that only gave me a bloody nose.

Fingers tapped on the top of my head. "I can practically hear those thoughts of yours, you know." Dad's steps slowed and he reached to the side and opened the door on our left. "In here." A hand on my back guided me inside. There wasn't much to say about the room. A pile of clothes sat in the middle, folded like they were on a rack in a store, and a pair of brown boots stood beside them. Dad held his hand in front of me. "Weapons."

I placed Riptide in his grip. With a simple motion, he tossed it to his other hand before snapping his fingers. "What?" I asked.

"The knife."

My shoulders fell. I thought he would have forgotten about it. I rubbed my thumb across the smooth surface before pulling the pocket knife out. It was a birthday present. The one he gave me early.

The one he gave me right after my friends died.

I stared at it. "So much for taking me fishing, huh?" To be honest, it was an empty offer at its core. Zeus would never let him spend time with me like that. The shiny folding knife, shaped like a fish and with blue, was enough of a gift as it was.

I could only watch as it slipped from my hand into Dad's and from his hand into a pocket. Dad's face was grim. Regret flashed in his eyes, only for him to close them. Heaving a sigh, he sat on a newly appeared chair and waved his hand.

"Get changed," he said.

"With you in here?"

"You're my kid. I'll keep my eyes closed, okay? Just change, we don't have a lot of time."

I stared at him. "Can you at least-" A changing screen appeared between us. "Thanks." I changed, stripping out of my jeans and camp shirt, before shaking out the clothes and shoving them on. I huffed, took the gray shirt off, and put it back on. Correctly this time, not backwards. I stepped out from behind the screen, feet halfway into the boots and the cloak draped over one arm.

I expected Dad to be sitting there bored, bored out of his mind like any god should have been waiting for his kid to change. Instead, the knife was out of his pocket again, and he rubbed his thumb over it the same way I usually did. When I finally got my feet into the boots, complete with my try to shove the black pants fabric down into them, the knife went back into a pocket and he stood.